


This Heart of Yours

by lodgedinmythoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Insecurity, Mission Fic, No Sharon hate here, Reader Has Powers, sharon is cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 16:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodgedinmythoughts/pseuds/lodgedinmythoughts
Summary: Newly in a relationship, you and Steve join Natasha and Bucky for a mission. All is well until you find out you'll also be working with Agent Carter and your deep fears come to light.





	This Heart of Yours

Though Bucky tried to hide his shudder from you, it was clear he felt a little discomfort. The corner of your lips quirked.

“I saw that,” he muttered. “What are you, a sadist?”

“Sure,” you said. “I’m just saying, you always say you can handle it every time.”

“Well, maybe you’re ampin’ it up a little every time just to mess with me.”

“I can’t believe you’re accusing me of such a thing,” you said in mock offense.

“Well, believe it.” Bucky looked to where your hands still rested on his shoulder, then to you. “What, did you stop?”

“I was waiting till you adjusted some.”

Ever so slightly, he straightened from his slouched position and puffed out his chest. “’m fine.”

Glancing at him for the go ahead, you channeled your energy into the spot where flesh shoulder met metal arm, easing the muscle and tissue underneath. It wasn’t uncommon that Bucky came to you for help with his shoulder. The first time had been at the suggestion of Tony and, as expected, Bucky had been hesitant. You knew he’d come to grips with his situation—regaining his memories and old personality and working with the Avengers as a trial run—but having others come in physical contact with that part of his body was still too…intimate. After the first time, it took him two months to approach you for help once more. After the second time, he came back three weeks later. After the third time, he kept coming back, getting less bashful each time.

Bucky groaned in slight pain and you stopped. “No, no,” he said. “Keep goin’. It’s fine, just…like a really vigorous massage.”

You resumed your concentration on his shoulder, feeling the rush of tingling energy course through you. “Sorry, but you know I gotta put some substance into it to have any real effect.”

It was silent for the next few minutes save for Bucky’s soft grunts to accompany his twitches as you worked his shoulder. Just as you were wrapping up, Steve walked into the room.

“Should I be jealous?”

“Ya should, pal,” Bucky said, getting up with a roll of his shoulder. “Girl like her, she could have anyone. God knows why she settled for you.” He patted Steve on the shoulder as he walked past. Then he turned to face you, still moving backward. “Thanks again for the help.”

“No problem.”

And with a minute dip of his head, he turned and strided out of the room. Steve watched him go before looking back at you with raised brows. You answered with a shrug.

“I still don’t know why he doesn’t just go see the doctors when he’s in pain. That’s sort of what they’re there for.” Steve slowly crossed the room to you, hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s too clinical.”

Steve considered that, eventually stopping one foot in front of you. He looked down at you, head slightly tilted, and your heart skipped. It took conscious effort on your part to rise steadily from your seated position. Sharing the same small space with him, it was so easy to forget the rest of the world existed that it almost scared you. His eyes dropped to your lips and you felt your breath grow short. You’d hardly moved two inches before he closed the gap and his lips were on yours, soft and warm and so tender in their quiet passion.

Every time you kissed, you could never quite believe it was happening. That Steve Rogers, the Steve Rogers everyone in the world knew as Captain America and the Steve you knew as the soulful, at-times shy guy from Brooklyn, was interested in you. Because contrary to Bucky’s earlier remark, you believed it was Steve who could’ve had anyone he wanted. That anyone would’ve been lucky to get to know him. But somehow, he chose you. What the two of you had was still in its nascence, and with that came fears, insecurities, doubts—especially considering what you both did and what that could mean for the future. But in such moments as this, you were more easily convinced that what could come from this was something altogether different. A ray of hope in a dark world.

Steve’s hands cupped your face, encasing you in warmth as his nose bumped yours, lips stroking away as though they’d been waiting forever to do so. You met his kiss with equal fervor, holding back a quiet moan as he nipped at your bottom lip. After what felt like ages, the two of you pulled apart and looked at each other with breaths shorter than before.

“Hi,” you said simultaneously. Immediately you both broke out into soft laughter, his hands leaving your face as yours reluctantly let go of where they were clutched at his shirt.

“I can certainly think of worse ways to greet someone,” he said.

“I’d hope so,” you said with what was probably the stupidest grin imaginable.

He smiled softly and brought a hand up to smooth his thumb across your cheek. “Have you had lunch yet?”

You glanced down at your watch. “Oh, wow, what have I been doing this whole time?”

“I can probably tell you. Sleeping and taking a whole other half hour to get out of bed after you wake up.”

You whacked him on the chest. A couple of folks on the team knew of your penchant for sleeping in. “Shut up. And what’ve you been doing, Mr. Oh So Productive?”

“Just finished up a session of training. Now I’m all scrubbed up and ready to face the world.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m hungry. What do you say we take a walk, pick up some food on the street?”

“Fine by me.”

Soon after, you and Steve left Stark Tower for the streets of New York, the two of you wearing baseball caps. He was far more likely to be recognized than you, but you still liked to retain a sense of anonymity. Although New York was already generally a good city for anonymity, seeing an Avenger out and about, let alone two together, was something many people were hard-pressed to ignore.

Picking up some food from a vendor on the way, you and Steve strolled along the city streets with no destination in mind. It was enough just to be with him. You’d often sojourned into the city together when you were just friends and those outings had always been made more pleasant just by being in each other’s company. Sometimes you talked for hours on end, trading stories or ideas or feelings. Sometimes you didn’t need to talk much at all. And for all the ease you felt with him, you were still unable to stop the butterflies in your stomach whenever he smiled or laughed or simply looked at you.

Initially you’d tried to bury your feelings, which you later learned he’d also done. It wasn’t a good idea to complicate any relationship the two of you may have already had, professional or otherwise. But when one night after a party your shared, contagious laughter morphed into a kiss, you knew there was no going back, no matter how much you were willing to pretend. You had no idea where this was headed, how long it would last, if it was even a good idea—but when he took your hand in his like he couldn’t quite believe he was able to do it, vanished were all the thoughts except those that relished what you now recognized as contentment.

You were chatting about nothing in particular when you felt and heard your phone buzz. With the way Steve eyed you, you knew his had too. Pulling out your phones simultaneously, you looked down to see a message from Agent Hill. After taking a second to read, your eyes shot up to meet each other’s.

“If we hurry, we can still make it back to pack some things,” you said, already falling in rapid step with him in the opposite direction.

“Where’s Thor and his flying hammer when we need him?” Steve muttered.

After booking it back to the tower and packing essentials, you and Steve met Bucky down in the lobby, after which you were all driven to the nearest helipad where Tony’s private helicopter awaited. For circumstances such as this, Tony had given express orders for his pilot to escort whoever was needed to the compound when he was absent, such as now when he was in Singapore for a tech conference.

“Who else do you think is coming?” Bucky asked through the headset after everyone boarded.

“Maybe Natasha,” you said. “If she’s close enough to make it.”

Sure enough, when you arrived at the compound, Natasha was already there.

“How’d you get here so fast?” asked Steve as you, he and Bucky approached the large conference table.

Natasha turned from where she stood behind a chair to face you. “Mutation. My speeds now rival Maximoff’s.” She offered a droll smile. “I just got here myself. I was at Niagara Falls.” When she was met with three puzzled looks to varying degrees, she shrugged casually, adding, “I’ve never been there.”

“Good, you all made it,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind you. The four of you turned to see Agent Hill striding into the room like it was just another day at the office. In her hand was a black folder, which she plopped onto the table. Leaning forward on the back of a chair, she said, “Hope you’re all doing well. So, there’s not really much time to waste here so I’ll spare the chit-chat and cut right to the chase. A group of mercenaries broke into a lab last night and managed to steal the world’s only known supply of ZP4, a biological weapon that could quite literally wipe out half the earth’s population.”

“Never heard of it,” Bucky said.

“And that’s the way the powers that be want it to stay,” Hill said. “Unfortunately, if this thing gets out, there’ll be a lot more problems than just the revelation of its existence. We’re still unclear on who’s behind all this, but right now we need you to get that serum before it’s too late.”

“Makes you wonder why they need a weapon like that made in the first place,” Steve said in a low voice, his arms crossed.

Hill quirked a brow. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Cap.”

“So where is all this?” you asked.

“Berlin. We located their hideout to be in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town.”

“It always is,” mumbled Natasha.

“You’ll get in, get the serum and get out. You’ll probably hit some roadblocks on the way, but nothing you haven’t handled before. These guys are a dime a dozen.” Hill slid the folder across the table and Steve picked it up, slowly thumbing through. “This is the file. You’ll have Sharon Carter from Joint Terrorism acting as a liaison.”

Unbidden, your eyes shot up from where you were examining the file in Steve’s hand.

“The folks upstairs think it’ll be more efficient to work with someone over there, especially since as a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, she knows how we operate. You leave in half an hour. Good luck.” And with that, she was off.

Natasha was soon to follow. “This should be fun. I call first dibs on the cockpit,” she said on the way out.

“See you in 30,” Bucky likewise muttered and stepped between you and Steve to leave.

Unfortunately for you, you were left internally floundering while Steve looked over the file in his hand. How he looked so unaffected by the news of working with his former…girlfriend? Romantic interest?…you had no idea. You hated that you felt this way, so insecure and, if you were being honest with yourself, a little jealous. But it was only natural, wasn’t it? To work with your boyfriend’s ex-whatever while said boyfriend was also present would be awkward for most people. What made this harder, though, was the fact that there was no objective reason to dislike her. Instead, what was eating you up was the voice in the back of your head that told you Steve was settling for you, that you were always the second option. That perhaps upon seeing Sharon he’d realize the mistake he made.

You felt like you were in school all over again and you hadn’t even met up with the other agent yet. Still, you couldn’t stop the questions from forming as quick as lightning in your head. What if this was a sign, going to Berlin? Getting a second chance with the one who got away?

“Looks like this thing is airborne,” said Steve, focused on the notes. “Once one person’s infected, there’s no stopping it from spreading.”

“Great. If this gets out, there’s no way we’ll be able to contain it.” You sighed and moved to leave. “I’ll take a closer look at that on the jet.”

“You ok?” Steve’s voice rumbled from behind you.

You waved him off. “Yeah, just a little hungry maybe. Didn’t have enough for lunch. I might go to the cafeteria or something.”

He merely looked at you for a long beat, paused mid-page turn. From a distance, his eyes were only slightly less piercing. But still you felt he could see right through you. “Ok. Want me to meet you there?”

“Don’t worry about it if you’re busy.”

He sighed and looked off to the side. “Well, while we’re here, I was thinking I could talk to Dr. Cho about Bucky’s arm. But I mean, I know it’s not her specialty, so if not her, maybe someone else then.”

“Yeah, you could try it, see what she says,” you said, taking another step away. “But better not let Bucky find out. I doubt he’d appreciate feeling like he’s being babied.”

Steve stuffed the papers back into the folder and made his way toward you. “I’m not babying him. I’m just looking out for him, and if he’s constantly in pain…”

“I know.” You nodded your understanding.

Steve reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I’ll meet up with you before we leave so we can head down to the hangar together.”

“Ok.” His light touch tickled your face as he lowered his hand and passed you to exit the room, leaving you with more complicated thoughts than you’d expected to have before arriving.

A little less than half an hour later, after you’d shirked the cafeteria for a solitary walk around the grounds and then interior of the building where you caught sight of people milling about and working, you walked to the hangar alongside Steve, the pair of you suited up. You’d determined to put all your creeping thoughts on the back burner. You were professional, after all.

Natasha was already at the cockpit while Bucky stood at the open cargo door, looking out at the expansive hangar. “Come on, slowpokes,” Natasha said as you piled in, waiting for everyone to settle in before taking off. The ride was pretty routine with the quiet chatter here and there and the ubiquitous purr of the engine. You tapped through the briefing report and the mission file as they were projected onto the holo screen.

“What do you think the ‘ZP’ stands for?”

You turned to glance at Natasha, free now that Steve and Bucky had taken over the controls. “Zoo. Parka,” you deadpanned, shrugging. You caught Natasha’s smirk from the corner of your eye as you continued to scroll. “Were you really at Niagara Falls earlier?”

“That so hard to believe?”

“Just kind of a funny picture is all. How was it?”

Natasha’s expression took on one of false incredulity at the question having even been asked. “It was beautiful.”

Deciding to take a shot in the dark, you asked, “So what else do you do when you’re not avenging the world?”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Depends. Do you want the witty answer or the real one?”

Shrugging, you said, “The real one.”

She let out an audible breath as she settled into a seat. “What do I do?” she muttered as though asking herself. Then she said matter-of-factly, “Pretending to be a free woman, I suppose.”

Unsure of what to say in return, you turned to fully face her and leaned against the wall. You watched as her expression turned thoughtful.

“I have a lot more freedom, you know, ever since I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. It means I can do things like visit Niagara Falls. But there are still a lot of things I wish I could do. Some more than others.” You saw the faraway look in her eyes for only a split second before they met yours again. She folded her arms. “I learned a long time ago not to take things for granted. To seize opportunities when they arise. Sometimes they work out, sometimes they don’t. But at least in the end, you’re not left wondering ‘what if.’”

You had the strong sense she was trying to convey something to you, but then again, you often felt like that. You weren’t sure what she was trying to say between the lines so, blind, you nodded and played along. “Sounds obvious, but some people don’t realize that till they’re much older. You’ve always struck me as an old soul, you know.”

Her amusement, though subdued, was genuine. “No, not an old soul. Just seasoned in a…very particular sort of life.”

“ETA 20 minutes,” Steve said from the front.

Without a further word, Natasha moved to prep her gear while you did the same. Afterwards you occupied yourself by standing behind Bucky and Steve to look out the window. Gradually, the clouds thinned out as the jet began its smooth descent and before you knew it, you were landing on the rooftop of the Joint Terrorism Task Force headquarters in Berlin. As you touched ground, you could better decipher the figure standing off to the side as Agent Carter. Biting the inside of your lip, you moved to the back where Natasha stood at the ready.

You hadn’t talked at all with Steve about the eventuality of seeing Sharon mainly because you didn’t want to come off as insecure. Even though you were, he didn’t need to know that. He never brought up the subject either, which only plagued you with more anxiety before you’d ended up resolving to compartmentalize. But the trip overseas hadn’t exactly been short or eventful, which allowed the niggling thoughts in the back of your head to reappear intermittently without interruption.

Steve certainly didn’t seem like the type of person to pursue someone if he still harbored feelings for someone else. Then again, maybe it was just the distance that had the most impact on them. You weren’t quite clear on when and why they’d decided to end things or if it had just naturally fizzled out, but if this reunion proved to be the kick needed to rekindle something…. At the end of the day, you didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of Steve’s happiness, as much as it’d kill you to walk away. And you liked to think you had far too much dignity to stay with someone whose heart was with someone else.

You shook your head. You were simply going to be, to take each moment as it came without too much analyzing or self-consciousness. Anything else required too much energy that would be better spent on the mission.

The sonorous whir of the cargo door opening pulled you into the present, the sunlight making you squint as the cold breeze whipped around the strays in your hair. You could hear two pairs of footsteps catching up from behind as you and Natasha disembarked. Sharon met you halfway with a proffered hand, which you and Natasha took in a polite exchange.

“Thank you for coming. I know it must’ve been short notice,” said Sharon.

“It comes with the job,” Natasha said in a reassuring tone.

Sharon’s easy demeanor noticeably shifted when her eyes landed over your shoulder. Steve came to a stop beside you with Bucky on his other side. Though the slight smile on his face seemed easy, you could see the strain behind it.

“Sharon.”

“Steve.”

You looked on as the two met each other’s gaze for a long beat before flickering away awkwardly.

Sharon cleared her throat and turned to Bucky. “Bucky.”

Bucky gave her a polite, if tight-lipped, smile. “Nice to see you again, Agent Carter.”

Sharon clapped her hands together. “Ok, so if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you in.” Turning, she led you through the rooftop door and down an elevator, which opened to a vast, sleek atrium.

“Seems like you get a lot done here,” Steve said, looking around at the people going to and fro.

“It never stops, as you can imagine,” Sharon said.

“You do much field work these days?” Natasha asked.

“Oh, no. I’m usually found behind a desk nowadays.”

Leaving the atrium, you went deeper into the narrower corridors and stopped when a lanky, balding brunette in his mid-40s greeted Sharon by name.

“Everyone, this is Agent Schönberger. Agent, these are—”

“The Avengers, yes, yes. Or at least some of them, hmm? Of course I know who they are. I don’t think there’s a soul on the planet who hasn’t heard of them. Incredible work you all do, truly.” His gaze roved over all of you.

“We’re just on our way to a briefing,” Sharon told him.

“Ah, yes. Don’t let me get in your way.” He beckoned as he stepped aside.

The four of you followed Sharon into a room comparable to the size of the main conference room at the compound. “Please take a seat. Feel free to help yourself to coffee.” She gestured to the beverages off to the side as she landed in a chair. Then without much further ado, the meeting proceeded.

After wrapping that up, you, Steve, Natasha and Bucky headed back to the quinjet while Sharon remained to act as base support. Upon arriving at the factory, Bucky stayed put in the jet for a prompt getaway while you, Steve and Natasha disembarked via parachute. Splitting up, the three of you successfully infiltrated the hideout and stealthily took down any guards who might’ve alerted the others of your presence.

As it had been decided that it was you who was to retrieve the serum, Steve and Natasha helped clear a path for you before you headed farther into the heart of the building. Gunshots rang out and you did a forward roll across the floor. Taking shelter behind some wooden crates, you took aim as you spied figures in black running across the balcony, shouting orders. Your aim was true as the henchmen fell one after another. You maneuvered through the tight space, hiding behind crates and dodging stray bullets, emboldened slightly by the fact that the shooters couldn’t see you in the dim lighting. When you approached the double doors you needed to go through, you backed your way into them, firing as you went. That’s when you felt something clip your upper arm.

What started as a dull sensation quickly grew to a sharp pain, though not overwhelming. Instinctively, your hand flew to your arm as your back made contact with the doors and you stumbled into a drafty and decrepit, barely lit corridor. You backed up against the wall and peeled a portion of your hand off the wound to gauge its severity. Just a flesh wound, a graze. You could easily mend it with your powers.

The sounds of impact and gunshots and yelling drew your attention to the space you’d just left. Through the small windows on the doors, you could see Steve going head to head with several men at a time. You turned your attention back to your injury. With concentrated effort, you placed your whole hand on the wound and repaired the flesh, the tingling sensation coursing through your whole body. Once that matter was taken care of, you turned in the other direction and ran on light feet, hyperaware of your surroundings and wary of potential threats.

“How’s it going over there?” Steve’s voice said through your ear. The familiar whoosh and clang of his shield making contact with an unfortunate someone rang out on his end.

“I’m almost there,” you said quietly. “It should be just beyond the corridor.”

“I, for one, am dealing with an incredibly stubborn guy,” Natasha chimed in, a male groan of pain on her end. “Doesn’t he know he doesn’t win? It’s like he’s never watched an action movie before.”

Loud, hurried footsteps coming around the corner rang through the corridor. You halted, not confident you could take on as many men as it sounded like there were. The lights flickered. Eyeing the offending tile in the ceiling, you raised your gun. With a piercing popping noise amplified by the hollow corridor, the lone source of light was extinguished. You wasted no time in pressing a button on your wrist and turned to the wall. As expected, immediately there were yells from around the corner and shots ringing out in your direction as the footfalls grew faster, but by the time they arrived you’d already scaled up the wall and onto the ceiling, freeing one hand to dig from your pouch a marble-like ball.

In the dark, you listened to their shouts as you hovered just above. You then tossed the ball in the opposite direction of the doors, its clink barely heard in the cacophony of noise. You quickly rolled the neck of your black undershirt designed for this very purpose up over your nose and listened as body after body tumbled to the floor. Disengaging the hi-tech adhesives feet first, you landed in a crouch, pulled the neck of your undershirt down and traversed the direction from which the henchmen came, soon stumbling upon meager lighting.

After checking several intersections, you eventually came upon the room it was believed the serum to be in. You shouldered against the hefty door with great effort. “I’m in the room,” you said once you entered. “It looks like a…giant fridge.”

“Copy,” Steve said.

Grateful for the overhead light, dim as it was, you moved farther into the room and began your search. It worked in your favor that the serum you sought looked so distinctive, for not too long after, you located its blue and black hue inside a larger glass container an arm’s reach away. You picked up the tiny glass bottle from the container and were awed, fleetingly, that such a tiny substance could cause so much suffering.

“I’ve got the serum,” you said. “We’re good to go.”

Steve answered, “Copy that. Everyone get back to the jet.”

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll put that down.”

You whipped around to find a stocky man in tactical gear in the doorway. He stood with his legs spread and fists clenched at his sides. His voice was gravelly.

“You’ll wanna put that back.” He took one step closer. “Before I go over there and—” His speech was abruptly cut off when he began convulsing where he stood. Not a second after he fell to the ground, Natasha appeared in the doorway.

“Heard you got the serum.”

As soon as the three of you made it back to the bird, Bucky put it in the air. “Took your sweet time with this one, didn’t you?” he said.

“Can it, Buck,” Steve said, pulling off his cowl and earpiece. “Time moves slower when you’re not doing anything.”

“I was doing things,” Bucky muttered under his breath. “Like, electrical things.”

The ride to Task Force was much shorter on the way back. It was mostly spent cleaning yourselves up a bit. When Steve noticed the jagged rip of suit material on your upper arm, then the scar where your healing had done its work, he gently took your forearm.

“What happened?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“Just a graze. Patched it up.”

His eyes moved up to yours. He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. You questioned him with your eyes. When he spoke next, it was softly so the others wouldn’t hear.

“Just my protective urges going into overdrive here.” You moved to speak, but he interrupted before you could start. “It’s not that I don’t think you can handle yourself, you know that. I just wish we made it so that it didn’t have to happen at all.”

“You did just fine when you and Nat cleared the path for me earlier.”

Steve sighed gently and let go of your arm. He watched you shed your gear for a moment, pensive look in place, before leaving for the other side of the jet. You were tired and irritable, and you weren’t in the mood to talk. Thankfully, the rest of the trip was looking to play out uneventfully. Then, when you were nearly back at HQ, Bucky spoke up.

“Hold on, we’re getting something.” He flicked several switches and pushed a button before Sharon appeared on a small screen. “Agent Carter.”

“Guys, it’s Schönberger. He’s the one behind the serum. He found out you were on a mission to get it back and tried to escape. He’s armed. We’ve got the place on red alert but we haven’t managed to get him yet. You need to get back now.” Her tone was urgent.

Exchanging glances with each other, you watched as the transmission cut out. You arrived at Task Force within minutes and found the place on red alert as Sharon had said. With his shield, Steve bashed open the padlock that obstructed the rooftop door, and the four of you rushed in and down the stairs for expedience, the harsh blaring of the alarm resounding on all sides. As Bucky continued down the stairs, Steve motioned for you and Natasha to stick with him. The three of you burst through the door to the next floor. You were greeted by the sight of stragglers scurrying into rooms and a group of armed security hurrying down the hall.

“Looks like this guy has everyone on a wild goose chase,” you said.

Natasha glanced around. “I know how to find him. Stay patched in.” Then she ran back to the stairwell.

To maximize your efforts, you and Steve decided to split up. He soon disappeared into the stairwell as you readied your gun and maneuvered your way through, side-stepping the papers strewn across the floor. You peeked around corners and moved on light feet. You had gone through several floors when Natasha’s voice rang through your ear.

“It’s me. Do you read? Schönberger’s on the third floor. He just left stairwell A and is headed toward the main footbridge.”

“Are you there?” you asked.

“No, control room. I’m flicking through surveillance.”

“Alright, see you there, Steve.”

“Copy,” he replied.

You traversed the remaining flights of stairs and silently pulled open the door. In the middle of the third floor were multiple walkways making up a balcony area that looked down into the atrium. Connecting two sides of the balcony in the dead center was a footbridge. You eased your way forward, checking the windows on the closed doors as you went.

“Hold on,” Natasha said. “He turned the corner after the next but there’s no footage available. It’s a blind spot.” The frustration was apparent in her voice.

“He’s over there somewhere. I’m gonna have to go in blind.”

“Be careful,” she said.

Approaching each corner with caution, you sidled up against the wall and pulled out a compact mirror, angling it just so. What you saw in the reflection caught you completely off guard. You rounded the corner and jogged over to where Sharon sat hunched against the wall, a hand on her torso through which red blossomed onto her light blue blouse.

“Sharon,” you cried out softly in alarm as you kneeled beside her. “What happened?”

“He got me as I ambushed him. Managed to get one shot to his shoulder, but wasn’t enough to stop him.” Her voice was strained, her breathing labored. She let her head fall back against the wall. “That bastard. I thought I could trust him.”

“Sharon.” You turned to find Steve approaching from the way you’d come. “What happened?”

“Schönberger,” you said.

“Where’d he go?” he asked as his eyes roved over the surroundings.

“Over there.” Sharon’s head jerked lazily in the direction behind you.

“You go,” you told Steve. “I’ll help Sharon.”

She shook her head. “’m fine. Go help Steve.”

“You know I do this sort of thing all the time. It’s kinda my thing," you said in what you hoped to be as light a tone as you could, given the situation. You twisted your neck to address Steve. “Go. Get that asshole.”

Steve took several steps closer until he landed on one knee in front of Sharon. He rested a hand on her shoulder, earnest look on his face. “I’m sorry, Sharon. I’ll make him pay.” Then he looked at you as he said his next words to her. “You’re in good hands.” All Sharon could give was a shaky nod.

“Go, go!” you urged. Not having to be told again, Steve took off in the direction of the footbridge. “Ok, you’re gonna have to let me touch it to fix it,” you said gently as you took her wrist in yours. “I’ll get right to it, don’t worry.”

Her face scrunched in pain as she eased her bloodied hand off the wound. Feeling the heat emanating from the wound before you even touched it, you quickly replaced her hands with yours. She grunted and closed her eyes as the blood coated your hands. Even so, you wasted no time in gathering your power and channeling it outward. Eyes screwed shut, you poured your energy into the wound as the tingling sensation consumed you. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or if it was actually harder than usual for a wound of that kind. You opened your eyes when Sharon cried out and though your hands remained on her torso, you reduced the flow of energy.

“The bullet’s still in there, isn’t it?” you asked, cursing yourself for overlooking the obvious.

She managed to bite out, “Yes.”

You couldn’t heal the wound with the bullet lodged in there. She needed proper medical attention. She was losing blood quickly. Your mind was racing. You didn’t know what to do.

The flood of thoughts was interrupted when a loud crash sounded from your right. Startled, you turned and were met with the sight of Steve striding with purpose toward Schönberger, who, presumably having just been thrown clear across the room, lay crumpled and prone on the footbridge.

There wasn’t much to subdue after that. Alongside Bucky and Natasha, who both appeared at some point during the scuffle, Steve looked on as Schönberger was apprehended by the soldiers rushing in and was promptly ushered out. You remained next to Sharon, whose features were still twisted and face sporting a sheen of sweat. Your hands remained on her torso, though you’d stopped the flow of energy and your eyes were trained on the blood seeping through your fingers as though you could rid her of the bullet by sheer will. You were about to shout for help when you heard voices and feet and you lifted your head to find several medics rushing to Sharon’s aid. Rising, you backed away to leave space and watched as she was wheeled away.

As everyone cleared, your gaze lifted and found Steve’s in the distance. Your unspoken words floated along the empty space to meet in the middle: it seemed everything would be ok.

  


* * *

  


You found yourself sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair, completing a word search you’d bought from the gift shop on the first floor. In the middle of the room, Sharon lay prone but in recovery. When at last she opened her eyes, the small movement of her head caught your attention.

“Hey.” You suspected you sounded unsure.

“Hey,” her voice croaked.

Your eyes flew to the glass of water on the bedside table. “Want some water?” She nodded. Rising, you held the cup for her as she sipped and placed it back down when she finished. Feeling rather awkward just standing there, you quietly cleared your throat and moved your chair that had sat against the wall so that it was closer to the bed. Her eyes followed your movement as you sat down. There was another pause before you spoke. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve just been shot.”

You chuckled. You didn’t know her very well, but you figured if she was speaking in clichés right after waking up, she must have been ok. “You’re on the mend. And if I remember correctly, you built up quite the reputation of badass while you were with S.H.I.E.L.D., so…”

“They only said that ’cause my Aunt Peggy paid them to.”

That earned another laugh from you.

“They get Schönberger?”

“Task Force has him now. He’ll be taken care of, and the serum’s back in good hands. Well, as good as they can get.”

Silence then fell over the room, both of you lost in thought.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful here, but…” Sharon’s voice held little hesitation. “What are you doing here?”

You’d gone over the same thing with yourself earlier. Though it wasn’t unheard of for colleagues who hardly knew each other to make a hospital visit, it also wasn’t uncommon for an agent to simply make sure the injured received proper care before going on his or her way. This situation, however, was a tiny bit off the standard. You felt as though you’d been personally responsible for her aid upon finding her and when you couldn’t deliver, you let her, the team and yourself down. You knew guilt was part of the reason you wanted to check in, but perhaps you were still not completely willing to admit to yourself that part of that guilt stemmed from your internal battle concerning her, yourself and Steve, to which the poor woman opposite you was surely oblivious. You were sure she didn’t even know you and Steve were together.

“I mean, I don’t expect hospital visits when it comes to work,” she continued. “You didn’t have to visit me ’cause you feel obligated, if that’s what it is.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you said. “I wanted to come. See how you were doing.”

She turned her head so her gaze was upward, a cynical smile forming. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. The bullet.”

“I know. But I could’ve done something. I mean, I have the power to heal for Christ’s sake—”

“You don’t have the power to move metal as far as I know and you couldn’t heal me with that thing still in there.” She twisted her neck to face you once more.

As you studied her resolute expression, you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. There she lay on a hospital bed after having had surgery for a gunshot wound and she was the one offering reassurances. You nodded and leaned back in your chair.

“The others must be waiting on you,” she said.

“Natasha and Bucky know how to keep themselves occupied. And Steve, he’s, uh, he’s here, actually. He’s just getting coffee.”

Her brows furrowed ever so slightly. “Oh.”

You opened your mouth to speak, a distant and polite phrase of comfort on the tip of your tongue. Then—to hell with it. You let out a breath and shook your head to yourself.

“Of course he’s here.” You had no doubt the implication of your words was received. Though they were no longer a thing, it wasn’t a surprise they still cared about the other’s wellbeing.

“He’s that kinda guy, isn’t he?”

The side of your mouth lifted in the tiniest of smirks as your gaze fell down to where you fiddled with your thumbs.

“You guys seem good together.”

That gave you pause, though you didn’t show it. Perhaps she just meant as teammates. But then she chuckled.

“I’m not CIA for nothing.”

Again, your mouth opened to speak, but this time nothing came out.

“At least, there’s definitely something there on his end. You’re a little harder to read. Look, don’t worry, I’m not gonna…” She trailed off and shook her head, more to herself, it seemed. “Steve and I…I think neither of us knew what we wanted. And the two of us, it made sense on paper, you know? Expected. But the whole time it just felt like I was watching it happen to someone else. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way he acts. He deserves to be happy.” She let out a loud exhale and affected a casual tone. “But I don’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Your voice was distant, your thoughts elsewhere. How it had felt from her perspective, how it had seemed to all others. To be reminded of how merely human you all were, even if a tiny chunk of you had strange abilities and larger-than-life responsibilities than those of the average person. To fight and share the burden of the world’s fate yet ultimately be at the mercy of human folly and emotion.

You relaxed in your seat, a soft smile playing at your lips.

  


* * *

  


The next time you woke up, it was without ceremony, as it usually was. Your room at the compound was dark, lit only by moonlight and accompanied by the pitter-patter of rain beating softly against the windows. Sitting up, you listened to the silence all around and expected any activity around the place was done for the day. You could feel the emptiness as you wandered through the hall of the living quarters. You saw the cool glow of the overhead lights before you made it down the small flight of stairs into the common area.

Sure enough, in the armchair with his back to you was Steve, head bent over what looked to be an open book. It must have been riveting, for even as quiet as you tended to be, Steve could usually hear you coming with his heightened senses. Only when you stopped behind him to his right did he seem to register a presence and turn.

You smirked and rested a hand on the back of the chair, hand on your hip. “Whatcha reading?”

“Uh, Harry Potter,” he said, displaying it in the air.

You chuckled. “Oh, yeah. From your list. How is it?”

He caught your hand as you circled to move around him. With a demure smile, he set the book down on the side table and pulled you onto his lap. “Pretty interesting, actually,” he said. “I can kinda see now why some people are so crazy about it. I do have a couple of theories.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll tell you about ’em later.”

You nodded. “So are you the only one still here?”

“Well, I’m sure there are still some stragglers around here putting in overtime. There’s always work to be done. But yeah. Couldn’t leave while you were still sleeping.”

“Didn’t mean to pass out like that.”

“Nah, you needed it.”

You chewed on your lip as you toyed with the neckline of his sweater.

“What is it?” Steve said.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, determined to put it in the past.

“You’re playing with my sweater. What is it?”

You sighed. “Ok. It’s just…we never talked about the whole…Sharon thing. And now we’re back and it seems silly and I just wanna—”

“Wait, Sharon thing?”

“…Yeah?”

“What Sharon thing?”

“Are you serious?” For your incredulous look, you received a genuinely confused one in return. You teased, “Are you forgetting that you had a thing with her?”

“I’m aware I had a… _thing_ with her, but what is it you’re talking about here?”

You sighed internally. It looked like you were going to have to spell it out for him. Trying for a dismissive tone, you said, “Ok, so I might have had a few insecurities about seeing Sharon.”

“Why?”

“Really? Steve, she’s your ex…ya know. You have a history. It’s stupid—” You shook your head and moved to stand, but Steve held tight.

“Ok, I get that. Kind of. Not really. I mean I don’t get how you would ever be insecure because of that.”

“Ok, what if you were in my shoes and you had to work with an ex-boyfriend of mine who seemed, in theory, a perfect match?”

Pursing his lips, Steve’s brows lowered. “Ok, I’ll give you that. But what do you mean ‘in theory’?”

“Come on. Don’t tell me everyone didn’t see you two coming from a mile away. Anyway, this is all moot now and I know—”

“Hey.” Steve said your name when you tried to move again and he stopped you. Shaking his head, he let out a laugh, which you scowled at. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. Not really. I think you just forget sometimes that this…is all still pretty new for me. I’m not used to girls being, well, jealous over me. I didn’t even consider the possibility that you might feel that way about me and Sharon. I’m sorry. That was inconsiderate of me.”

Though your pride prickled at his use of the word “jealous,” your rational side knew very well that was what it had been and there was no use denying it. “You don’t need to apologize, Steve. We’re all professionals here. I just was unsure how you would feel seeing her again. If maybe…” You trailed off, unwilling to go there. But you’d already started it and you knew Steve wouldn’t let you off the hook that easily, if the look on his face was any indication. “Ok, if maybe you’d realize you were, I dunno, with the wrong person or something.”

It felt silly to say out loud, even though you knew it was a legitimate fear, especially given how new the two of you were. And despite it being a legitimate fear—or because of it—you found it difficult to meet his eyes. But you could hear the disbelief in his voice.

“You’re crazy. I’m sorry, you are. You’re the craziest person I’ve ever met. You’re…you are incredible. You’re smart and compassionate and—and silly and you always manage to make me laugh. And you’re beautiful, so beautiful. In all the ways that count. Even when we were just friends, I always thought that.” He raised a hand to cup your cheek and you swore you could feel the desperation through his touch. You placed a hand on his arm. “I may not be the most experienced in these things, but believe me when I say I could go on forever trying to convince you how I feel about you. I wanna be with you because you’re _you_. I guess that’s why it never entered my mind that you might feel uncomfortable around Sharon. ’Cause when I think of you, I think of something…altogether different. And I had hoped you knew that.”

You were unsure what to say, having grown shy under his intense gaze and unabashed words. “Look at you, all waxing poetic.”

“Come on, I’m being serious here,” he said. “You know, matter of fact, I can’t believe it’s you who wants to be with me.”

“Steve…” You sighed, knowing you could go on for days yourself when it came to that. “You don’t see yourself the way I do.”

“I could say the same to you.” His thumb was a soft caress against your cheek. Then he was leaning in to meet your lips. He was trying to convey a message, of that you were certain. His adoration and sheer desire for you. His willingness for you to believe. And you could feel it all in his kiss.

Your foreheads remained on each other’s when you broke apart and you were overcome with the need to embrace him. Wrapping your arms around his middle, you rested your head in the crook of his neck and closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. As you always did when in his arms, you felt that familiar peace wash over you. And with that contentment came a fierce emotion, startling in its intensity, that made you wish you could block out the world entirely until you and he were the only things left.

It could never truly be that way, probably shouldn’t be that way, but you were in it. You were always in it. And so was he.

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda suck at writing missions.


End file.
